It Fades
by Luthien Potter
Summary: Third and final in the Euolgy Cycle. As Remus gives his eulogy for his fallen friend, a hidden figure at the side of the church waxes introspective on the loss of an old hatred. . .


Well, lovies, it's said that all great things come in threes. Not that this is a great thing, probably my least favorite, but a third nonetheless. And so I present to you the third and final installment of the Eulogy Cycle.  
  
Try not to be too harsh, I had to really work at this one. I tried to get Snape's somewhat cynical side to come through, but I just wasn't channeling his as well as I did Remus. Or even Harry, for that matter. I really should stick to songfics, they always come out better.  
  
Anyhow, read this, let me know what you think. Oh, and just for propriety's sake: I don't own it. None of it. It's all JKR's!  
  
~Desertrain  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It fades.  
  
This hate that I worked so long to keep burning. . .it began fading in the hour of his death. Now, as I stand here, unwanted, unwelcome and unseen in a recess at the side of the small church that houses his memorial service, I realize that I cannot even mock the memory of Sirius Black. All that I feel left inside me is a slight annoyance at the fact that he has once again bested me, by taking all of my anger towards him into the grave with him.  
  
I thought that I came to this memorial to mock Black's memory, to gloat at the fact that I am alive and he is not. But as I watch those in the congregation mourn, I find that I cannot even do that. I have not the heart to gloat in the face of such mourning. Everyone who knew of Black's innocence is here: Dumbledore and McGonagall, the Longbottoms, Figg, Tonks, Fletcher, and others who have scattered themselves towards the back pews. The Weasley Clan takes up practically a whole side of the church by themselves, and are arranged around the wonderful Harry Potter.  
  
The Order is worried about Potter. They were worried that possibly that family of his would mistreat him, but the Durselys seem to have been scared into submission. Now, the Order is worried about Potter's mental state. I find myself worried. I did not acquire the burning hatred in my soul that I see in his until I was older-maybe not much older, but still older. I know the hatred that flares in him. This hatred goes beyond what I felt for Black, or even what Potter may feel towards myself or the Malfoys: This is a hate of the Dark Lord himself. The one that takes families from whomever gets in his way. Who will find your greatest weakness and exploit it in order to reach his goals.  
  
I hear Remus Lupin step up to the pulpit to begin his eulogy for Black. I feel a tinge of pity for this man: he never overtly terrorized me-that pleasure was for Black and Potter Senior. I know it saddens Lupin to have to deliver yet another eulogy to a lost friend. I wonder, does he think about who will be the one to give the eulogy at his memorial? Most likely Potter, unless Potter goes first. . .and then it will once again be Lupin to deliver the farewell to a lost friend.  
  
All attention is given to Lupin as he begins to speak.  
  
"I had hoped that I would never have to give another one of these speeches. I have given too many of them already. And yet, here I am, back at the podium, expected to give another eulogy. And for this one, I haven't even a piece of a body to direct it to."  
  
'Yes, and Pettigrew so deserved the mourning you gave to his finger, now, didn't he?' My sarcastic side can't help but sound the question in my head.  
  
"Sirius Black was one of the best men I ever had the pleasure to know. Yes, the world thought he was a criminal, and I cannot deny that they had good cause. He was well set up. But Sirius was also the only man I could think of that, even with the Dementor's Kiss waiting for him, would place himself in immediate danger of a horrible punishment just to help his godson."  
  
I feel as though, at this moment, I am listening to a eulogy for a man I never even met. This man was kind and loyal. Sirius Black was never kind to me, he did the best he could to make my seven years at Hogwarts-and the time afterward-hell on earth. And yet I feel slightly cheated that I never got to meet the man who is so obviously mourned this day, for he sounds like a good man.  
  
'Wait!' I think to myself. I shouldn't feel slighted! I would have been civil to the bastard, had he ever once been civil to me! For a moment, I feel the old feelings against him stir, but it is still not hate. A lingering resentment, maybe, but not hate.  
  
In the second of thought on my part, a connection seems to have been established between Potter and Lupin. They stare at each other, as if the rest of the mourners do no exist. And Lupin keeps talking, but to Potter now, not to the congregation assembled here.  
  
"I honestly do not know what I can say to convey my sadness at the loss that we have all suffered. But Sirius was not 'lost' to us. No, he was taken from us. And my feelings are not limited to sadness. I feel rage that his own cousin would try to take his life. I feel the emptiness that his absence has left. I feel the need to avenge his death, and the death of so many others."  
  
Indeed. The Dark Lord has taken many from us. And he will take many more before this war is over. I know that, Potter knows that, and Lupin knows that. Everyone in this church knows this now, even if they are just coming to realize it. No one knows who may be next. Black wasn't the first casualty. He won't be the last. But watching Potter from the shadows where I stand in a recess at the side of the church, and seeing a flame start to burn once more in his eyes, I think that Black may be the most important.  
  
"This is a curse, this watching the ones I love die, and being able to do nothing. We all feel this curse, some more keenly than others. We all knew and loved Sirius. He knew and loved all of us. His colleagues, and his friends. But most of all, he loved those he considered to be his family. There weren't many of those. And a love that powerful does not fade. It lingers. And that is what will help us to beat Sirius' murderers. They think that they did themselves a favor, and that we will be too grief stricken to fight back. . ."  
  
Hah.  
  
"They are wrong."  
  
You can say that again.  
  
"They have united us into a force that is to be reckoned with. And we will be victorious.  
  
"Because Sirius would have wanted it that way."  
  
A sappy ending, but I know that Lupin is right. I have watched the fire growing in Potter's eyes. They fairly blaze now with ambition and determination. If I never believed that Potter would actually fulfill his status as the savior of the Wizarding world, I believe it now. There is no mistaking the gleam in his eyes. He will win. And it will have been Sirius Black, bane of my existence, that gave Potter this determination. He may have had to die to do it, but from my standpoint, it was worth it. In this moment, all of my hatred for Black completely fades away, replaced by a sudden burst of hope for the future. The energy that has been put into hating Black for so many years has a much more positive use now: keeping me alive to fight another day for the Order. Because now, now that Harry Potter is willing to fight with absolutely everything he has inside him, we have a chance.  
  
I see Remus turn from the pulpit, and I see Potter rise to meet him. The church is silent, almost as if a collective breath is being held, and I feel the breath catch in my own throat. For a moment, Lupin and Potter just stare at each other, as if reading each other's souls. I see the confusion, hope, and sadness mingled in Lupin's eyes as he waits for whatever Potter will do.  
  
When finally Potter speaks, it is with a voice slightly rusty from not being used for two weeks. I realize that he has not spoken since he was dropped off at Platform 9 ¾. And I realize that he will probably not speak again until he is away from Privat Drive and the family that awaits him there. He has said only two words, but they say everything.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
'Thank you indeed, Black.' I think to the empty coffin, wondering if someplace, he can hear me. 'I might not like you-never have, probably never will-but I have to thank you.  
  
You have given us a fighter.'  
  
~Fin~ 


End file.
